


Nicotine

by jessepnkman



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-17 09:30:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1382488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessepnkman/pseuds/jessepnkman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dennis smirks. He doesn't have to pin him down to have his way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One.

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of this is just small snippets of Macdennis. Nothing sexual at the time being, so I guess the summary is pretty misleading.

I.

The first time they kiss is on Christmas eve.

There's no snow outside on that night but it's cold enough that even Dennis agrees they'd freeze if they met under the bleachers -- and Dennis owns the thickest coat Charlie's ever seen in his life. So the three scurry to Charlie's place, where they won't be bothered by screaming contests hosted by Barbara and Frank Reynolds or suffocated by Mrs Mac's smoke.

Not that they mind the smoke. After they clamber upstairs to Charlie's room, they don't hesitate rolling a joint. Paired with the vodka Dennis swiped from his dad's stash, they all feel woozy as hell. Charlie's mom is out and about and so they just let the smoke cloud the room, let it rise to the ceiling.   _Sacrificial tokens to the gods_ , Dennis chuckles, sliding to the floor.

"You mean 'God' not 'gods', there's only one God, Dennis."

Dennis is too high to get pissed at Mac's religious ramblings. Charlie hobbles off to find some glue to huff.

Dennis and Mac lean against each other as they sit against Charlie's bed. The floor is cold but their shoulders are warm against each other. "You're a work of art, you know, Mac?" It comes out dreamy and good-natured from Dennis's chapped lips so Mac doesn't wince. 

"Art's gay," Mac scoffs. He sucks in another breath, letting the weed get to his brain and scramble it. Like eggs. "I'm buff and...and badass --"

"Nah," says Dennis. He smiles lazily and turns his head to look at Mac. His lashes are long and they look like dust when they are illuminated by the dim light of the streetlight outside. Mac almost reaches out to touch them, to see if they would blow away like dust if he felt them, but he doesn't. He doesn't want to ruin the moment of Dennis's weed breath on his mouth, of Dennis's ghostly lashes, of Dennis's eyes meeting his.

Dennis breaks away first, throwing his hands in the air to grope the bed behind their backs. The sudden movement jolts a blitz of sobriety into Mac, but it melts away when he takes another swig of the vodka. It burns on the way down. Dennis's arms come back down, along with a blanket, and for a moment, the world turns black with the blanket pulled over the two of them. Dennis giggles, a sound so young and sweet Mac can hardly believe it came from him.

Mac's eyes don't even adjust to the darkness before Dennis's lips collide into his. Both their lips are rough and stained with vodka but Dennis feels like silk to Mac. He leans in, parting his mouth for more, but Dennis pulls back and giggles again.

"Work of art," Dennis murmurs.

 _Art's gay_ , Mac thought to himself and he entwined his fingers with Dennis's.

 

II.

The second time they kiss is when Dennis goes off to the college. It feels like betrayal when Dennis fists bumps him and leaves him the ghost of his lips.

 

III.

Mac doesn't like to keep count of how many kisses he's had with Dennis (five) because thinking about it makes the blood go to his head, like God's telling his heart to deliberately pump more fluid to his brain to plug up the sin he's got oozing from the cracks. He hates being a sinner. He doesn't want to go to Hell, because since day one, he's always known that the Bible says that Hell sucks and only gays suck, and Mac was certainly  _not_ gay.

Would a gay man watch all his best friend's sex tapes? Would a gay man bang said best friend's mom? 

Mac keeps telling himself no.

 

IV.

"I'm telling you, by the time Terminator 3 rolled around, Schwarzenegger was off his game."

"You don't know shit about the game, Dennis. Schwarzenegger  _is_ the game. He looks at the game and pisses on the game."

"...He pisses on himself?"

Mac's taken aback a moment, not quite sure what his point implies.

"Well...well, no. That's not what I'm -- that's not -- look, what I'm trying to say is," Mac sighs, "Schwarzenegger could be ninety years old and he'd still be on top of his game."

Dennis raises an eyebrow. "Pissing on the game?"

"Would you forget the pissing?"

Dennis sighs, takes another swig of his beer. He hates conversations like these -- they have them far too frequently and also, they never seem to go anywhere. Mac never manages to convince Dennis to grant any more superiority to a celebrity beefcake and Dennis never convinces Mac to deter from this subject. But they never stop having them, nonetheless.

They don't speak for a moment and there's only the whir of the air conditioning. It's warm in the room, but the beers are cool in their hands, and a comfortable silence washes over them. The television is on, spouting shitty dialogue from this guy or that guy, and Dennis is sitting close enough to Mac that he can probably pin him down and have his way with him.

Dennis smirks. He doesn't have to pin him down to have his way.


	2. Two.

I.

"Mac, do you ever think about, like...where we're gonna go after all this?"

Mac takes a long drag from his cigarette and his response is just a sputter and a cough.

"Mac?"

They're lying in a dump and it smells like shit, but they're both used to it. The odor's long sunk into their clothes, into their bones. It's a part of them -- this filth -- and they would probably lie here until the crack of dawn. 

"Mac, I asked --"

"I heard you," Mac snaps. His voice is husky from the smoke and Charlie thinks it makes him sound like an old man, like one of the ones that sat on their porch and yelled at them when they crossed the street. Mac thinks it makes him sound badass. 

Charlie looks up at the sky, lots of flickering lights. Twinkle, twinkle. "Well? Are you going to answer my question?"

"What question?"

Charlie sighs. "Where are we, like, gonna go after this?"

Mac scoffs and puffs out a smoke ring, letting it drift into the sky. Charlie wonders if that's how some of those things twinkle up in the sky, but he's afraid to ask. Maybe a year ago, Mac would still be willing to answer all of Charlie's questions, ask some of his own, but ever since Mac kissed that girl and started hanging out with that crew in school, he's not cracked his mouth open to do anything but cough and smoke.

"We're gonna go home, Charlie, what do you think?"

Charlie's embarrassed but he forges on. "Like...no...like when we're out of school."

"I dunno," Mac says. He shrugs his shoulders. "Like, college or somewhere." Charlie looks over at him and he sees Mac's got his brow all furrowed. He looks upset and now Charlie feels bad for making Mac feel bad. "Why are you asking me this, Charlie? Don't worry about stupid stuff like the future."

Charlie laughs, shaky and unsure. "Yeah, stupid stuff."

Smirking, Mac cocks his head to look at Charlie. With his hair greased back and a cigarette stub in his mouth, he almost looks...old. It makes Charlie's heart ache.

"I don't ever wanna get old," Charlie says, picking at a bolt in an appliance above his head. 

"Why not?" Mac asks.

Charlie shrugs. He's not even really sure why. Adults got to do cool stuff like drive cars and kiss girls and...and blow up things in the desert or something. 

He just doesn't want Mac to be an adult. If Mac was an adult, he'd be even further out of reach. He'd be out driving cars and kissing girls and blowing up things in the desert without him. 

"Everyone leaves when you're old," Charlie says finally.

Mac grunts. "I won't," he mumbles.

Charlie smiles.

 

II.

Mac's back is against his and he can hardly breathe. The party is suffocating the both of them but at least the weed's helping.

"It's so loud, Mac," Charlie groans. "Let's go. Let's go back to my place and we can...we can go get smashed there."

"Nah, Dennis is here, man." The music throbs in their ears and Mac's voice is almost lost in the commotion. "Here, pop another joint."

Charlie does as he's told, but bitterly. It was always Dennis this and Dennis that nowadays. Mac was always going on about Dennis, how he was so cool and how he did this or that, and yeah, okay, his music wasn't the best, but _Charlie_ , he scored like three girls the other day, oh man, and Dennis is gonna teach me how to score girls, too and -- ugh. Girls and Dennis and Dennis and girls. 

Charlie thinks Dennis's hair is weird.

"Were you guys going to say hi anytime soon?"

Charlie turns around in a daze and -- speak of the devil. The girl-scoring, wacky-haired, Mac-stealing sonnuva bitch is standing right in front of them with two girls draped around his arms. He looks smug (typical).

"Hey! Dennis, my man!" Mac lights up and leans in for a hug, which Dennis dismisses with a stealthy step to the side. "Den! Hey! Haven't seen you around, yeah, but we've been meaning to -- like,  _damn_ , this is a great party! Just...just really, uh, really nice." 

"Thanks," Dennis says with a nod. He turns to Charlie, raises an eyebrow. "How are you enjoying yourself, Charlie?"

Charlie shrugs. "I don't know, it's pretty cool, I guess." He takes a sip of his soda. It's flat.

Dennis snorts and then beckons him closer. "Look, Char, my man --"

"-- don't, don't call me --"

"-- you've gotta let loose a little."

Charlie opens his mouth to say something but closes it and wrinkles his nose. Please. As if he needs a wack-haired fellow to tell him to  _let loose._ "Are you...are you saying I'm...not loose?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Dennis says with a grin. "Look, you're a pretty cool guy." Charlie's heart swells and he grins giddily at the compliment, momentarily forgetting his hatred for Dennis. Maybe Mac was onto something after all. "But...here. I've got a suggestion. Go hang with Melissa --" he lets go of one of the broads that was clutching him, "-- and see how loose you can get. If you, ah, catch my drift."

Melissa is tall and very pretty. There's lots of fleshy parts and her breasts are very large. "Well, thanks, Dennis, but I think I'm loose enough --"

"Nah," Dennis says with a chuckle. "Nah, I don't think so, buddy. I'll take Mac aside and you can hang loose. Let everything...hang loose." He winks and Charlie's taken aback. He leaves, shooting a look at Mac beforehand.

Mac claps him on the back and whoops. "Damn, Dennis is the coolest. He's teaching me how to get girls. I'll see you later!" He punches him in the shoulder and dashes off after Dennis.

Charlie doesn't even slip a word in before Melissa's all over him, lips on his face and his neck and her hands in places he can't even reach without blushing. Her boobs are pressed against his chest and they're like gigantic weights. How did she walk around with those? He thinks about the strength it would take to haul around those boobs with his hands, but then she starts heading southward.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa,  _whoa!_ "

 She rubs and she rubs and there's a tingling sensation he wants to fight off. Not knowing what to do, he pours soda down her back and takes three steps back, flushed and confused. She screams and arches her back, shocked by a wetness that isn't sexual in any way, shape, or form, and then grits her teeth. She turns to face Charlie.

"What the  _fuck_ was that for?"

Tongue tied, he throws the can at her and gets the hell out of there.

 

III.

Charlie talks about how gross sex is and Mac talks about how much he wants to bang beefcakes.

Charlie knew Mac was gay, like, ages ago. Could see it in sixth grade when Mac asked if seeing stars in people's eyes was normal, if finding galaxies in Gordon Fornarelli's pupils was a normal thing. Charlie thought it was kind of weird for Mac to be thinking about other people like they were cosmic occurrences but he didn't have the words to say it, so he just grunted and asked if they could go poke that dead dog they found in the dump.

Mac doesn't know what Charlie is -- he just knows that kid doesn't want anything to do with sex. He remembers finding that Playboy in fifth grade and seeing huge, gigantic breasts. Mac thought they were lumpy and didn't know why anyone would want to even touch such gigantic things (they looked like balloons, but heavy. Like they were made of cement). He puffed up his chest and told Charlie they ought to read it together, but Charlie said he wanted to burn trash. So did Mac.

 

 

IV.

They've made out, like, twenty three times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry but who can really only have mac/dennis when there's mac/charlie in the loop. the unholy trinity does not work separately!!


End file.
